


A Room Bathed in Moonlight

by coldnightsandcoffee



Category: Shadow and Bone (TV), The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, First Time, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28982271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldnightsandcoffee/pseuds/coldnightsandcoffee
Summary: I know everyone and their friends have already done the post winter fete scene BUT I CANNOT HELP IT, sweet saints, that scene could use a few more pages lol.What if Alina and the Darkling have never been interrupted after the fete? Written with the POV that Alina does not yet know the Darkling's true nature.He is horrible, he is an unrepentant villain, but I will go down with this ship solely because their chemistry is FIERCE. ❤️First time writer here at AO3 and the first work I've done in YEARS so please be kind. :) Beginning paragraph taken directly from the book for continuity. Pease don't sue me Leigh Bardugo, we love you.
Relationships: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova & Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov
Comments: 10
Kudos: 114
Collections: Grisha Trilogy





	A Room Bathed in Moonlight

"The problem with wanting,” he whispered, his mouth trailing along my jaw until it hovered over my lips, “is that it makes us weak.” And then, at last, when I thought I couldn’t bear it any longer, he brought his mouth down on mine. His kiss was harder this time, laced with the anger I could feel lingering inside him. I didn’t care. I didn’t care that he’d ignored me or that he confused me or about any of Genya’s vague warnings. He’d found the stag. He’d been right about me. He’d been right about everything.His hand slid down to my hip. I felt a little trill of panic as my skirt slid higher and his fingers closed on my bare thigh, but instead of pulling away, I pushed closer to him.

The night air felt cool against the skin of my legs. His mouth moved lower, trailing fire down to the hollow of my throat, then lower still, my ribbons coming undone under his deft fingers, taking possession of the space between my breasts. I opened my eyes briefly to take in the sight - moonlight spilling into the queen's sitting room, spinning his hair silver in the darkness. I reached up to thread the softness of it through my fingers, brought my face down to take in the scent of him - like winter night, like danger, heady and intoxicating. His face tilted up and caught my mouth again as he pressed me harder against the door. I felt my flesh searing where he leaned against me, wanting, wanting.

I want this. 

It was clear as day. There could be no going back.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head up against the door. I felt his hands ride up against the undergarments on my hips, his fingers pulling me closer. A sound not quite a moan, not quite a growl, escaped my throat. He held me tight against him as he captured my earlobe in his mouth. I felt a sweet yearning pulse deep inside me, making me weak at the knees. "Alina," he breathed against my ear, his voice strangely pained. 

At that moment we heard a loud clamor of voices from the hallway. A group of very noisy, very drunk people were careening down the corridor, and someone bumped heavily into the door, rattling the handle. We froze. The Darkling shoved his shoulder against the door so that it wouldn’t open, and the group moved on, shouting and laughing. In the silence that followed, we stood looking at each other. His hair was tousled, his clothes rumpled in places. He looked so young and so beautiful. And so hungry. Moonlight glinted in his gray eyes, dark as night, and I found myself lost in them.

His hand moved behind me, never taking his eyes off me, and I heard the scrape of metal on wood, the finality of a lock sliding in place. We are standing so close together I was acutely aware of his scent, his height. He placed his hands on the door on either side of me and looked down at me. I realized how exposed my chest was and how eagerly he is taking in the sight of me, and I can bear it no longer.

I reached up and pulled his mouth to mine. He leaned deep into the kiss, and through our connection I felt his anger flaring and alongside it, his need. With a rough gesture, he lifted one of my legs to wrap it around his waist. His other hand is restless, exploring my face, my neck, my shoulders, until it found its mark on my breast. He squeezed once, and I moaned against his lips, a sweet ache intensifying in the spot where his hips ground against mine.

The impossibility of the situation suddenly washed over me. The most powerful Darkling that had ever lived, the most powerful grisha in the whole kingdom, is now in my arms, whispering my name. It filled me with a sense of awe of my own power. I felt strong. I felt beautiful. The Darkling might have belonged to all of Ravka, but tonight, he is mine.

As if reading my thoughts, he pulled back just enough to look at me. "I shouldn't be here. The War Room. My men..." But his body did not stop pressing against mine. His rhythm became more insistent, pleading.

"I know."

A rough sound escaped his lips. Suddenly he lifted my other leg up and carried me, straddling him, deeper into the room. I felt softness underneath me as I realized he set me down on one of the Queen's plush chairs. I heard the rustle of silk and fabric as I felt my skirts being gathered at my waist. My breathed stilled and I looked up at him, suddenly afraid. I've never felt so bare before anyone. Keeping his gray eyes on mine, he lifted my legs to rest on his shoulders, then undid his trousers just enough. His mouth claimed mine again, rough and hungry, losing control. I felt my lips bruising against the onslaught. His hips pushed against me, harder, then again, and I felt his need sweeten the ache at the core of my being

"Let me," he said.

"This is real," I gasped.

"Yes. Let me." Then he looked at me again, and I would have given him the world.

"Yes," I whispered. And then with excruciating sweetness, he filled me, little by little. Something in me gave way, and I gasped at the pain, but it soon turned into a delicious ache, and my whole body worshipped him, clung to him tight. Now we are fully connected, and I felt whole. The light inside me danced joyfully at being given wings. I felt aglow, but not sated. I was shivering with the strength of my need for him. My eyes started to close, but he turned my head to face him fully.

"At me," he said. "Look only at me." And then he started to thrust. His hand gripped my face hard and I couldn't look at anywhere else even if I tried. The Darkling's face was transformed by his need for me. His eyes were half open and there's a deep furrow between his brows. His lips were on mine and I can smell his breath, taste his mouth, and it only served to drive me higher, higher. His pace quickened and I felt myself closer to the edge. I gripped him closer to me. But first, I need to know. 

"Would you," I whispered. "Would you stop, if I ask you to?" 

His slowed his movements, trembling with self-control, and I felt that twinge of anger again coursing through our connection. He thrust deep into me, and looked at me fully. "Is that what you want, Alina?" Another deep thrust, another moan escaping my throat. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Would you?" 

He thrust deep again and let out a ragged breath. He looked at me as if searching my face. He reached up and brushed a thumb against my cheek gently, before sighing, "Yes. But with great difficulty." To prove a point, he drove deeper into me.

I can feel myself close to losing control. I claimed his lips once more and drew him to me again. "Good. But I don't want you to."

"Oh, Alina." He grabbed my hair and buried his face on my neck, and I let go. I let him take me to heights I have never been. I was half-aware of the creaking of the chair straining against our weight. I was half-aware of the din and music of the party from far away. But in this moment, here in this room, the Darkling and I existed only for each other, dancing to our own rhythm of longing and desire.

And then I can bear it no longer, and cried out as sweet release flooded through me, thrumming through my veins and filling me with warmth. A soft gasp escaped the Darkling's lips, and he murmured something that sounded like my name, or a prayer, and with a few final, frantic thrusts, he too found his release. He collapsed into me, resting his head on my chest and trying to catch his breath. 

Such is the Darkling's pull on me, I wondered, sated. _Happy_. He's owned me completely, and I don't even know his name.

**Author's Note:**

> Typed this all out on my phone so forgive me me for any spelling/grammar/proofreading mistakes. Please don't forget to comment and/or send kudos my way if you liked this!


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